Carbon Copy
by Multifaceted Melancholic
Summary: It's so easy to distinguish the copy from the original. The faded grey sticks out like a sore thumb, drawing attention to the numerous imperfections.


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**Carbon Copy**

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**Summary: It's so easy to distinguish the copy from the original. The faded grey sticks out like a sore thumb, calling attention to the numerous imperfections. Sakura reflects on her achievements and shortcomings.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. **

**Timeline: Set in the aftermath of the Fourth Shinobi war. I've left the outcome of battle as a grey area, only assuming, for the purpose of this fic, that all major characters survive.**

**Note: This may appear to be an elaborate effort at Sakura-bashing, but that is ****not**** the intention. I am only attempting to portray Sakura's insecurities during the recent manga chapters. That said, onward to the second installment of the Angst (self) challenge!**

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Sometimes, Sakura doubted her self-worth.

The pinkette stood in front of the narrow mirror in her tiny apartment, painstakingly evening out her unruly hair, pink strands floating to the ground as her scissors went _snip, snip, snip._ The war was over, paving the way for change; and Sakura supposed that a haircut would be a good way to start. It wouldn't hurt to look nice for the party.

It was a time of celebration, or at least, Naruto had declared it to be. The blond _jinchuuriki_ had wheedled (Hinata, who needed no incentive to spend time with her crush), encouraged (Lee, for the sake of youth), bribed (Shikamaru and Chouji, with joblessness and chip respectively), pleaded (Iruka, who had a soft spot for orphans), challenged (Kiba, who quite hot-headed over little things), bullied (Kakashi, by holding hostage certain questionable reading material), goaded (Neji; really, it was _ too_ easy to rile up that genius) and sometimes outright kidnapped (Sasuke, and if in town, to everyone's alarm, Gaara); the cheery orange Hokage-to-be assimilated fellow Konoha nins and war survivors into a large circle of raucous all-night partying (complete with clone-strippers, courtesy of _harem-no-jutsu_).

Normally, Sakura would be the first to participate, especially if it involved escaping paperwork duty for Tsunade (who also frequently joined the festivities, single-handedly draining the sake).

But her heart just wasn't in it. The jovialities held no appeal, failing to lift her dampened spirits. It was almost as if the war had taken away a part of her.

**The problem was insignificant, really**; or at least, that's what she repeated told herself. Yet, a nagging sense of regret and unease persisted, all boiling down to a few simple facts.

In her two years as Tsunade's apprentice, Sakura had transformed from meek Academy student to _ninja extraordinaire,_ privy to several highly advanced medical techniques and the secrets of her _shishou's_ superhuman strength. Sakura could punch through walls like they were paper screens and bring back patients within an inch of death. She grew bold, and confident, so assured in her resolve and prowess.

But her teammates' return and the war had changed everything, till she could barely remember the girl she had once been. All because of one mind-numbing realization; that no matter how much she slogged, how many bruised knuckles and broken bones she had endured, how many sleepless hours she had spent honing her chakra control, _**it still wasn't enough, and it would probably never be**__._

Naruto had the _Rasengan_, his inheritance from the father who died protecting him, Kyuubi-enhanced techniques and the _senjutsu_ passed on by the sannin Jiraiya (oh, and don't forget his patented _sexy-no-jutsu_).

At Sasuke's disposal, an excessive arsenal of forbidden jutsu and the infamous curse seal from Orochimaru. Aside from those, his bloodline limits provided a plethora of unique skills: _Mangekyo, Susanoo, Izanami, Izanagi_… the list went on and on. And who knows what kind of shady techniques the Avenger had picked up from the late snake-sannin's deranged subordinates/experiments (Karin in particular was _one crazy freak_, but that could be her jealousy talking).

Even the so-called _**copy ninja **_Kakashi had his own set of unique skills. He had patented the lightning technique _Chidori_, which Sasuke tweaked into his deadly _Kirin_. Kakashi's Sharingan was the key to _Kamui_, which turned out to be so critical in the final moments of the war.

Ironic really, that Sakura was much more of a copy cat than him. She was inferior in every way, a mini-Tsunade boasting solely of the skills passed on by her _shishou_, nothing more, and actually quite a bit less.

_A carbon copy, dull and faded; failing to meet the standard of the original. _

Tsunade had a wealth of experience borne from her long and diverse career, while Sakura was a relatively fresh chuunin, unaware of so many forbidden techniques and exotic medical jutsu. In addition, Tsunade was blessed with the Senju bloodline - the strength of the first Hokage, the founder of Konoha, the strongest shinobi to ever swear upon the Will of Fire.

**And Sakura?** She was a fool in love, forever standing at the backs of her comrades, leaving the dirty work to them, confined to first-aid tents and slug summons, dealing with the aftermath while the others forged ahead.

She reminded herself not to be pessimistic; after all, everyone relied on her to take care of their wounds and keep them healthy and battle-ready; but Sakura was tired of being delegated to the sidelines to fret and take stock of the fallen. Loaning chakra to help defeat enemies was not quite the same as squashing them to a pulp herself.

Of course, Sakura _**had**_ done a fair share of squashing enemies to pulp, and she had claim to a gratifying list of achievements, but still, in face of someone truly powerful, like Madara or the _jyuubi_, she was insignificant and helpless, relying on Naruto and Sasuke to save the day.

Sakura frowned, dispassionately assessing her grimy reflection. No, her hair was still too long; it would get in the way while she was performing her regular surgeries. Decisively, she chopped off a few more vibrant locks, the diamond on her forehead glittering in the faint light as if mocking her.

Of course, the general public saw Team 7 as the next _sannin_, so Sakura's position as Tsunade's heir was nothing to be surprised about. But still, Sakura wished she could be something _**more **_than just the next _Byakugō_ wielder. (What _more_ was, she frankly didn't know, but she reasoned that _something _was better than nothing).

After all, Naruto was not just Jaraiya the Second; he was the son of the Yondaime, the Kyuubi _jinchuuriki_, future Hokage and hope of the people. Sasuke was, in public opinion, informally Orochimaru's successor (thankfully no one was stupid enough to say so to his face); but he was also the last Uchiha, the Avenger, founder and de facto leader of the inglorious Team Taka.

Her heart still clenched when she thought of Sasuke, her first love. Mentally berating herself, she reminded her errant brain that the Uchiha didn't matter, that she didn't care about him anymore, just like he had never cared about her.

She often chanted this piece of self-advice at night, in a bid to banish the Sasuke-infested dreams (or nightmares?) plaguing her ever since his fateful departure two years ago. She had even gone so far as to pound it into her skull using her newly-acquired brute strength; but still, the onyx-eyed teammate was her constant companion in the hours of slumber.

She snorted bitterly. Sasuke-_teme_ was probably relieved that she had given up on him. Or maybe she was not worth even thinking about. _He_ certainly wasn't spending hours wondering if things could have gone differently between them.

_Shriiiik._

Sakura clicked her teeth in annoyance. Her distraction had cost her dearly, in the form of a large swathe of pink, which added to the growing pile on the floor. Disconsolately, she ran a deceptively dainty hand through her shortened locks, assessing the damage. She'd have to think of a new style to salvage _this_ mess of hair.

Idly, she wondered if she would be left behind like Tsunade, the sole survivor of her team, alone, relying and alcohol and gambling to assuage her self-loathing…. The prospect was not inviting, to say the least.

On days when she couldn't take it anymore, Sakura resorted to mindless training to cling to the remnants of her sanity. Hitting things helped, but the cost of repairs urged her to consider less _destructive _means of stress-relief. Sakura sweat-dropped. Oh dear, even her violent temper was somewhat similar to shishou's…

Suddenly, she regretted her rash decision to change her hairdo. It was intended to lift her spirits, but that had obviously turned out rather badly.

Parties and practicality were all very well, but Sakura felt a sudden fondness for her distinctive pink tresses. It was a characteristic that was solely hers, something that she did not inherit from Tsunade. No one else in the village had such atrociously pink hair (or such a huge forehead); even Karin's flaming red mop was not so eye-catching. _Ha! Take that, you creepy psycho!_

Sometimes Sakura felt bad for her disparaging thoughts (regarding _Tsunade_, not Karin, no, of course not), particularly since the fault lay with her, not her shishou. Tsunade had been nothing but encouraging, providing support and guidance, somehow pulling her through the rough patch following Team 7's disbandment. She was truly grateful to the _Godaime _for turning her from a weak, hesitant genin to a brave, strong, smart _kunoichi_ who forged ahead on her ninja way (even if she sometimes lost direction, like now).

_Bah_. All this depressing introspection was getting her nowhere! She needed to do something _now_, something to take her mind off the beaten track of despair. The party would only draw others' attention to her brooding. She needed to engross herself, get busy with mind-numbing paperwork, cautious diplomatic letters, delicate healing, dangerous poison research, _anything_.

Mind made up, Sakura donned her work outfit and attempted to straighten her uneven hair, which looked even messier than when she had begun the whole pointless exercise.

Her last thought as she eyed herself in the mirror was that she was inferior even in the chest department.

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Ideally, Kakashi was the one she would approach with her insecurities. Her was her sensei and so understood her well, and surely the _ copy-cat_ title would give him a different perspective on her situation. But Sakura hesitated to add to the silver-haired jounin's innumerable burdens.

For some strange reason (probably similar to her self-loathing), Kakashi seemed to view all of Team Seven's troubles as his own personal shortcomings. Obito's betrayal only made things so much harder, and Sakura was determined to take her troubles elsewhere so as not to upset him any further.

After much debate, Sakura chose Naruto as her confidante. She seriously doubted whether the blond was an ideal candidate, possessing the resourcefulness and tact to comfort an irrational teenage girl; but she could only hope his bubbly and heart-warming personality (youthful, Rock Lee would say) would rub off on her. If all else failed, Sakura could always use orange-boy as a live punching bag to relieve some of her frustration.

Surprisingly, the ramen addict made matters so simple.

Grinning widely, Naruto attempted to smother her in a warm embrace, which she neatly side-stepped. "Awww, Sakura-chan, there's nothing to worry about, _dattebayo_! Baa-san is cool and all, but I love you so much more!"

Sakura didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she settled for returning a bone-crunching hug that might have been either reward or punishment.

That's right. She may not be much, but still had her friends, and she'd sooner die than let them leave her behind in the dust. The only way to go was forward.

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**Not as good as I hoped…and certainly much longer than I predicted!**

**I tried to put in a bit of humor…did I succeed? Reviews please!**

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**Notice: 23 August 2014**

AnimeFan202 left a lovely heart-warming review that really nails Sakura's angst and insecurities. Really, she summarized what I tried to expressed in this fic,so much better than I did! In her words:

**Sakura's tragic in her own way, I suppose. She suffers from the tragedy of being normal. Also, people don't give her enough credit... She really has come very far... It's just that 'far' is a relative term. She'll always seem impossibly inferior when compared to Naruto and Sasuke, (and quite a few of the other characters) when really, we should be comparing Sakura to Sakura.****..If that makes sense.**

**Thanks so much, AnimeFan202!**


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